


The Dark's Not Taking Prisoners Tonight

by Starofwinter



Series: Flowers and Tattoos [12]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Dissociation, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, recovery is not a linear path
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 17:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11583276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Sometimes the night is dark and lonely, but Loudmouth isn't alone.





	The Dark's Not Taking Prisoners Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Rabble, Ruckus, and Mischief belong to the lovely kristsune!

Loudmouth makes his way downstairs, instinctively avoiding the creakier steps.  For all that he and Rabble tend to be loud and boisterous most of the time, he can be perfectly silent when he wants to be. 

It’s become a habit, when he can’t sleep; he heads down to the shop to clean things up and make the place look nice.  It’s never looked as good as it has over the last week.  He doesn’t know what brought it on, but he hates the lost, fuzzy feeling that wraps around him even more than he hates the nightmares.  Sometimes it’s bad enough that even the shop feels unfamiliar, like he’s never been there before.  Those nights, he just sits down in Mischief’s greenhouse and soaks in the feeling of the plants and the stars overhead, sometimes he works a little, shoveling soil into pots for Chief to use later.  It’s comforting and it grounds him when nothing else does.  

He could tell the others.  He  _ should _ tell them, but Loudmouth hates the idea of bothering them - they would tell him he  _ wasn’t _ , of course…  Old habits are hard to break though, so he finds the quiet he needs to put his pieces back together on his own.  

“Lud’ika?”  It’s Mischief’s husky rumble that startles him out of his half-awake haze.  He’s been standing at the counter with a vase in his hand for… well, he isn’t sure how long, and it takes all his concentration to keep from dropping it when he jumps.  

He looks up at Mischief, his eyes wide as an instinctive, appeasing smile appears on his lips.  “Hey, Chief, did I wake you up?  I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t.  You should have,” Mischief says, but his tone is gentle and warm, without reproof.  The look in his eyes is  _ worried _ , and Loudmouth swallows hard.  “You can talk to us.”  He walks over, and Loudmouth doesn’t hesitate to crumple against his broad chest while Mischief wraps his arms around him.  “The dreams are back, aren't they?”

Loudmouth just nods, closing his eyes as he leans into Mischief.  “I thought they'd go away.”

“You know it doesn't work like that, Lud’ika.  It's okay, just come back to bed.”   Mischief keeps an arm wrapped around him as he guides him back upstairs and into bed.   Rabble wraps around Loudmouth as soon as he lies down, and Ruckus tucks himself into his side.  “I’ll stay awake,” Mischief promises, brushing a kiss to the top of his head, “It’s okay.”

It’s not completely okay, but for tonight… it works.  The darkness doesn’t hold old ghosts anymore, and he can get a little rest.


End file.
